


Traps for Troubadours

by janescott



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, Glam RPF
Genre: M/M, Threesome, supernatural themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:19:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to All the Sinners Saints</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traps for Troubadours

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing herein belongs to me

"You're hot," I say as we board the plane for New York. Adam smirks down at me a little bit, as we take our seats, settling in; doing up seatbelts ... blah blah blah.

He doesn't say anything until we're in the air, when he leans over and says, whispering in my ear, his lips – searing hot now – "I'm hot because I'm falling."

And he sounds fucking delighted. Ignoring the night speeding past outside, I turn in my seat and lay my hand along his bare arm. It's scorching to the touch now and I curl my fingers around it; spreading out my palm to take in as much of it as possible.

"Lucifer's brothers are going to be pissed," Adam says cheerfully, sliding his hand over my leg and leaning in close so that I can feel his hot breath on my neck.

I look around the plane – most people are asleep; I can see Monte and LP across the aisle, and Lisa's a couple of seats ahead ... they're all sleeping. I climb over Adam – slowly – and stand in the aisle. "Come on," I say, holding out my hand.

Adam smiles up at me, stretching out in his seat. He raises his eyebrows and says, "Bathroom, really? We could just stay here. I can make sure everyone stays asleep until we get to New York."

"I know that. I want to show you something. Something else" I clarify, when his mouth twists up in a smirk. He grumbles a little, but unfolds his long frame from the chair, with a kind of liquid grace that I hadn't really noticed before, and I can feel myself getting hot – hotter – under my skin.

"All right, Tommy. I'm intrigued. Lead on."

The bathroom is a tight fit, and I lean over the counter, staring at the mirror. I half-close my eyes when Adam leans against me; his chest solid and searing against my back. He's hard, pushing against my hip, and he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, staring at me in the mirror.

"So pretty," he murmurs, his teeth scraping over the back of my neck as he undoes the fly and idly starts stroking.

"So ... what were you going to show me?" he asks, his voice still low, his eyes nearly indigo under the harsh bathroom light.

"This." I put my hand against the mirror and our reflections disappear at the same time as Adam slides into me – easy and big. "Oh. Oh. So much easier than humans," he says, not looking at the mirror yet. I push back, because, fuck, yes and say, "He made me for this, remember. Look ... look at the mirror."

Adam's hands slide over my back; hot and smooth, touching everywhere and fuck if it doesn't feel good. It feels like home, and yeah – he's fallen now. He looks up and stills as he sees the picture that's replaced our reflections in the mirror. He's scorching and large inside me and still, which is a kind of delicious torture. I dig one hand into the cool glass, and wrap the other around the base of my cock, just – holding on.

"Is that - "

"Yeah. That's – home." The reflection shows fire and flame; lava pooling and running slowly over rock formations that have been carved into nightmarish sculptures by centuries of fire.

The smells are missing; and the screams, but it seems to be enough, because Adam's moving again and that's fucking perfect.

"Home," he says, his voice a quiet, harmonic vibration against my neck. He reaches out and tangles his fingers with mine, pushing my hand harder against the mirror.

Back in our seats in time to land, I stare out the window as the lights of New York appear below us.

"Now that you remember – are you going to keep doing this? The rock star thing?"

Adam leans over to look out the window, sliding his hand under my shirt at the same time.

"Sure. Why not? I'm stuck here for the duration – a human lifetime anyway – might as well make the most of it.

"It'll be fun," he says, his breath ghosting along my ear.

"Fun," I echo, as the plane lands.

"Fun for both of us," Adam says.

Hmmm ... stuck here for the next sixty years or whateverthefuck. I'm not so sure about that. Then I catch that look in Adam's eyes – the searing-hot dark-blue look – and what the hell. Why not?

We get to the hotel, and I don't even bother checking my room number. Just follow Adam to his. Lucifer's there, waiting for us – for Adam – but the room is fucking freezing.

"Who was it?" Adam asks, even as Lucifer wraps his arms around him.

"Gabriel," he says, idle, already pushing his hands under Adam's shirt. "There was some ... shouting. And I had to fix the room up again. We may have thrown a few things. He might be back ... how did he put it? For you. He might be back for you."

Adam just smiles and kisses Lucifer, lazy and deep, his hands tangled in Lucifer's blue-black hair.

"Let him come. I made my choice."

Lucifer turns his head to look at me, as though he's just remembered I'm there; his coal-black eyes roaming over me and making me feel like I'm standing there naked. Not that I'm complaining about that ...

"So you like your little toy? I see you had some fun on the plane." I suppose I should be offended at being called a toy. But I'm not really built to take offence. I am built to take ... well.

"Hmmm," Adam hums against Lucifer's neck, and I can feel the vibration of it echo around the room.

"He showed me home," he murmurs, his eyes still indigo-dark, but hooded as he tilts his head back, allowing Lucifer access to his neck, and all I can do is stare at the line of it; tracing it with my eyes.

Lucifer turns to look at me again and I know that look. "Mmmhmm ... home ... come here, demon child. Let's play."

Play I think later, lying dazed on the bed in a tangle of limbs and sweat and heat that is as close to home as I'm going to get for a long time.

Adam's lying on his back one side of me; his hand on my thigh, and Lucifer is lying on the other, his head propped up on one arm as he traces patterns into Adam's arm with the tip of his finger. I see tiny flames making pictures in the patterns and I just watch; fascinated.

Adam turns his head, staring at Lucifer intently. "You have to go," he says, and it's not a question.

"I do. Hell won't run itself for long. I'll be back, though."

Adam lets go of my leg, sitting up and reaching across me. "Promise?" he asks, laying a hand on Lucifer's face, stroking his thumb over his sharp cheekbone.

"And what would a promise be worth from the devil?"

That's his last words, before he's gone again, his laughter echoing around the room.

Adam lays back down, and I take his hand, winding our fingers together again.

"Sixty years," I say, my voice raspy. "Pass in no time. And in the meantime ..."

His hand tightens around mine; desert-hot and dry. "We get to be rock stars."

Pleased to meet you, I hope you guessed my name.


End file.
